Page 67 of Somewhere You Belong

“Yeah, maybe. It definitely affected me.” I stare off into space again.

“You know, I get what you’re feeling, that internal battle about doing what’s right or just going after what you want.”

“You don’t say?” I reply sarcastically.

He flips me off. “My circumstances are different, and you know that. Look, I’m just gonna tell you what I think. I think there’s obvious sexual tension between the two of you, so fucking go for it. If nothing else, you’ll have a way to let off some steam for the few weeks she’s stillhere, and then you can go your separate ways. Or…maybe there’s more there. But the longer this childish repartee goes on between the two of you, the more time you’re wasting that could be spent exploring what’s there.”

Frustrated, I run a hand through my hair. “Yes, I want to fuck the woman, all right? I fucking admit it. But I feel like it would just make the situation more complicated, Penn. And I want that house, okay? That’s why all of this started in the first place.”

But do you want her more, Dallas?

He turns away from me, stacking glasses. “I guess you have to weigh the risks then.”

“Is that what you did with Astrid?”

His head snaps in my direction. “Yes. And not that it’s any of your business, but I took my shot, okay? And she turned me down.”

“What? When?” I push myself off the counter, but he instantly retreats.

Shaking his head, he sighs and then walks off. “Doesn’t matter. Worry about you and Willow, Dallas. I’m going to go grab some stuff from the back, and then I’m leaving early. There’s a storm coming in tomorrow, and I need to make sure Astrid has supplies, and that her and the kids are safe.”

Watching my brother walk away, I wonder if he’ll ever get out of his own way so he can be happy. And when the hell did Astrid turn him down? I sure as fuck never knew about this.

Dark clouds hover over the water in the distance, an indicator of the storm Penn mentioned. Reaching for the remote, I turn on the television over the bar and flip to the news, hoping to get more information on this weather that is brewing off the coast. Strong winds, lots of rain, and hurricane warnings will be in effect for the next two days.

And that’s when it hitsme—Willow.

I wonder if she knows how to prepare or what to expect.

“Time to open the doors, boss?” Caroline, one of the waitresses asks me as she heads for the front door with the keys in her hand, a few patrons already waiting to come inside.

“Oh, yeah. Let ‘em in.”

Brushing off my concerns about the tenacious blonde that is taking up way too much of my headspace, I settle in the behind the bar, prepared for a long day ahead, hoping the distraction will help time pass while forcing me to figure out what to do about Willow later.

***

“Jesus.” Shielding my eyes from the rain pelting my face, I slam my truck door shut and head across the gravel to the front of the Bayshore house the next night , hoping to God Willow is safe inside—because if she’s out in this, there’s no telling where she might be or if she’s in trouble.

Even driving over here I knew I was taking a risk, but I couldn’t stand the thought of her here alone and probably scared, and ill-prepared for the magnitude of this storm.

It’s ingrained in me to help people. That’s all this is—my long history of being a Marine coming out on instinct.

Whatever you need to tell yourself, Dallas.

Climbing the front steps, I brace myself for wind and rain that’s hitting me, turning my back to the elements as I pound on the front door.

“Willow? Are you home?” The sound of the whipping wind makes it difficult to hear anything, so I slam my fist into the door again, over and over. “Willow!”

Her face pops up in the window to the right of the door, eyes wide, mouth agape, her hair cascading around her face, looking so fucking gorgeous. The sight ignites something within me, and I know it’s impossible for me to stay away any longer.

That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?

“Dallas? What on earth are you doing here?” she shouts through the glass.

“I—I wanted to make sure you were okay. That you’re prepared for this.” Blinking away the water that’s collecting on my eyelashes, I see the conflict in her eyes.

“I—I’m fine. You should go!” she shouts over the lashing wind and rain.

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